


The Minor Fall, the Major Lift

by PuppiesRainbowsSadism



Series: Love is Not a Victory March [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Married Castiel/Sam Winchester, Season/Series 09, Valentine's Day, married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppiesRainbowsSadism/pseuds/PuppiesRainbowsSadism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel realises his efforts towards restoring Sam's sense of self-worth were ineffective. So in the wake of Gadreel's expulsion, he tries again.</p><p>Sequel to This Grace of Love is Mine Eye</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hallelujah.

For all intents and purposes, it was just a normal day. Sam was up before the sun to go for a jog, got back just as the sun was fully risen, showered, and got bck in bed to kiss Castiel good morning. After Cas was awake, Sam, as the first one up, was the designated coffee-maker.

Except, it wasn’t just like every other day, because there was a sticky note on the coffee pot that said, in Castiel’s distinctive curly handwriting, “ _I love the look on your face when you watch me wake up._ ”

Sam froze, hand extended towards the coffee machine. The note reminded him of the ones Cas left him . . . two years ago? Three? It was when they had that huge fight and separated for almost a month.

Were they fighting again? Sam couldn’t remember an argument, but maybe Cas had a reason to be upset?

Sam was still contemplating the note when Cas crept up behind him, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist and kissing his shoulder.

“Morning, Sam,” he mumbled, still not entirely awake.

Sam peeled the note off the coffee pot. “Cas? What is this?”

Castiel peered around Sam’s shoulder to see. “It’s a reason I love you.”

“Right, I know, but . . . why?”

“Why?” Cas repeated in confusion. “Because I love you?”

“No, I mean, why leave the note? The last time you did that was when – “

“When we were fighting. That’s right.”

“But we’re not fighting now. Right?”

Castiel sighed and slid between Sam and the counter so he could look at him properly. “Sam. It was a mistake to stop leaving those notes. You’re better than you were then, but . . . you still don’t see how amazing you really are.”

Sam nodded, not in agreement but in understanding. He definitely didn’t think very highly of himself, but he didn’t think that was necessarily a bad thing.

“I want you to see it, Sam,” Cas continued softly. “And I thought maybe I’d focus on smaller things than last time.”

“Which means?”

“Instead of just saying you’re humble or kind, I can capture little moments that exemplify those traits.”

Sam chewed it over. He really didn’t want to go through that rollercoaster of emotions again, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad this time. He and Cas were together, they weren’t fighting, and truth be told, Sam never got tired of hearing Cas say _I love you_. It might hurt, but it gets worse before it gets better, right? Maybe . . . maybe this could be good.

“Okay,” Sam whispered, punctuating his assent with a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

“No don’t. Don’t. Don’t stop.”

Castiel tensed. This whole situation had him on edge from the very beginning, and this was exactly why.

“Sam, when I was human, I died, and that showed me that life is precious and it must be protected at all costs. Even a life as pig-headed as a Winchester’s.”

“My life’s not worth more than anyone else’s,” Sam whispered, his voice shaky and weak. “Not yours or Dean’s … or Kevin’s. Please. Please help me do one thing right. Keep going.”

Castiel took a deep breath and pushed the needle in deeper. It felt like Sam’s scream pierced his heart directly. He couldn’t explain the pain he felt, even though it was not a new sensation, but he knew it was directly linked to Sam’s.

Sam was bleeding from his nose, and his eyes fluttered shut, and Cas had the horrible thought that he was killing Sam – horrible because it was true.

:::

Cas ignored Sam’s outrage when he stopped early, ignored the initial anger entirely when, with a wave of his hand, Sam was healed.

Until Sam started turning that anger on himself.

“Sam,” Castiel interrupted Sam’s mantra forcefully. “I want Gadreel to pay as much as you do, but nothing is worth losing you.”

That made Sam pause, at least for a moment, and Castiel saw surprise and question where there was previously anger and frustration.

“Killing yourself won’t make anything better,” Cas continued softly. “It won’t set anything right. Dean and Gadreel – they may have taken your decision away from you, but now is not the time to take it back.”

“It wasn’t time for Kevin to die either.”

“Kevin’s death was not your fault. Do you really think killing yourself now is the way to avenge him? Don’t let his death be in vain, Sam. If you don’t live for yourself, live for him. Or live for me.”

Castiel could see in the set of Sam’s jaw that he wasn’t getting a response out of him. So he left, scribbled on a sticky note, and stuck it to the library door, knowing that was the first place Sam would go.

Then he rethought it – they had a spell to do, after all – and replaced it on their bedroom door. Cas wasn’t sure if Sam would even see it today, but he hoped, against all odds, that he would at least come to bed that night


	3. Chapter 3

“Cas?”

                Castiel looked up from the toaster oven he was trying to figure out. He had been right – Sam had come to bed last night, but it was very late, and Sam was completely wiped out. He’d passed out almost before his head hit the pillow, and after that, his sleep was fitful. Cas spent a good amount of time playing with Sam’s hair, hoping the soothing gesture would help him settle into a deeper sleep.

                It had apparently worked, because it was almost noon now and it was clear Sam had just woken up. Castiel couldn’t help but smile a little. Sam had terrible bed head.

                “Good morning, Sam.”

                “Why … why do you care so much?”

                That got Cas’s full attention. “What do you mean?”

                “I mean with these notes and – and yesterday. Why does my life mean more than anyone else’s?”

                Castiel thought very carefully about his answer, knowing that Sam had a talent for hearing the worst in even the most complimentary statements. “You have a habit,” he started slowly, “Of trying to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. Yet you would never even consider asking Dean or me to do the same. Why is your life worth less than anyone else’s?”

                Sam ducked his head and didn’t answer.

                “That was a trick question, Sam. Because your life isn’t worth any more or less than anyone else’s. But you seem to forget that.”

                “The demon blood – “

                “Doesn’t matter.”

                “And the apocalypse – “

                “Was not your fault. Sam,” Cas stepped forward, within Sam’s personal space. “You’ve somehow convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. Do you remember what we were fighting about the last time I left you notes like this?”

                Sam nodded silently.

                “You didn’t think you deserved happiness.”

                “That’s not – “

                “It is. You never said as much, but that’s what it boiled down to.”

                Sam sighed. “Fine. So you’re trying to convince me I deserve to be happy.”

                “I’m trying to convince you that you _matter_ ,” Cas corrected. “And, I have to admit, part of my reasoning is selfish.”

                “Really?”

                “Not all of it, mind you. Mostly, I want you to care about yourself. But … when you’re hurting, I’m hurting. I don’t want your self-worth to be dependent on me, but maybe keep that in mind?”

                “I’m sorry.”

                Sam’s voice was so small – he sounded so ashamed – that Cas’s heart physically hurt with sympathy.

                “Prove it,” he continued jovially. “Try to love yourself a little more.”

                “It’s not like a switch I can flip, Cas.”

                “I know. I’m not asking you to get better. I’m asking you to try. You’ve already shown outstanding progress by standing up to your brother about what he did to you. I’d like to see more of that.”

                “So – what? Fake it ‘til I make it?”

                “If that’s what it takes.”

                Cas could see how Sam was mulling it over in his head and smiled, because the fact that Sam was considering it was in and of itself progress.

                “In the meantime,” Cas said flippantly, “I’m trying to make lunch. Would you like to help?”

                “Sure,” Sam answered softly, but it was lacking the broken component his voice held earlier. “Let me just get some coffee first.” He squeezed past Cas to get to the cabinet that held the mugs but froze as soon as he opened it.

                Cas knew why, of course. He was the one who left the note there. But given their conversation, he was worried about how it would be received. “Sam? Are you okay?”

                Sam sighed, and the tension in his shoulders relaxed. “I’m fine,” he answered with a small smile


	4. Chapter 4

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Cas confessed as he buttoned up Sam’s shirt. That wasn’t indicative of anything; Castiel discovered early on that he enjoyed the intimacy of helping Sam get dressed.

                “Garth is my friend, Cas.”

                “I know. I have no quarrel with him. I’m just … anxious.”

                “Why?”

                Cas busied himself with straightening Sam’s collar, clearly avoiding the question. Sam grabbed his wrists to stop him.

                “What’s wrong, Cas?”

                “It’s probably nothing. I’m worrying too much.”

                “That’s probably true,” Sam agreed, “But I still want to know.”

                Castiel sighed, kissing the mole by Sam’s nose and avoiding his eyes by adjusting his tie. “Dean will most likely be there.”

                “Maybe.”

                “He will,” as asserted. “Garth is his friend too. And there’s most likely a hunt to be found there.”

                “Maybe,” Sam repeated. “But I don’t care about the hunt, and I don’t care about Dean.”

                “You don’t mean that.”

                Sam ignored the interruption, but Cas knew he was right. No matter how badly Dean hurt Sam, he would always be forgiven. For better or for worse. “All I care about is helping Garth and finding Gadreel.”

                There was a lot Castiel wanted to say – that he was worried about how Dean would react to being reunited with Sam. That he was worried about Sam’s reaction. A whole plethora of other things he was concerned about that were all jumbled together in his mind. He hadn’t bothered to sort them out.

                “Be safe,” he said instead. “Call me when you can.”

                “I will. I promise.”

                Cas pressed his hand to Sam’s chest to keep him from standing. “Before you go, you should take this.” He reached into his pocket and handed Sam a leather-bound journal, a little worn but otherwise looking new. The first fourteen pages were written in, but that was all. They both knew that without having to look.

                Sam took it hesitantly, no doubt remembering what Cas had written in it before.

                “I put a few more notes in there,” Cas explained. “That way no one else would accidently find them. One for each day, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be gone.”  
  
                “Is there one for today?’

                “On the inside cover.”

                Sam stood, kissing Cas gently, but no less meaningfully. “Thank you. I love you. See you soon.”


	5. Chapter 5

Cas had thephone pressed to his ear, heart squeezing painfully as he listened to Sam tell him about his day. His voice sounded fragile, but it had yet to break, even though Castiel suspected Sam was close to tears.

                “I just,” Sam paused to clear his throat. “I’m happy for him. Really. But … he’s going to Purgatory when he dies. He doesn’t deserve that, Cas. I don’t know if you’ve ever met Garth, but if there’s anyone who deserves Heaven, it’s him.”

                “I’m sorry, Sam,” Cas said solemnly. “At least he got out of hunting. He’s happy and has a good life ahead of him.”

                “Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I guess that’s all anyone can really ask for, huh?”

                Cas chewed on his lip. “If you say so.”

                Sam was hesitant in his response. “Is that a ‘I’m not human and don’t know for sure’ kinda thing, or are you disagreeing with me?”

                “A little of both, I guess.”

                “Am I wrong?”

                “Not wrong, just … pessimistic.”

                “If you say so,” Sam repeated softly.

                Castiel suppressed a sigh. “Come home, Sam.”

                “I will. I’m, uh … I’m bringing Dean with me.”

                Cas straightened up. “Did you make up with him?” he asked, not quite sure what answer he wanted to hear.

                “No, not really.” That was probably a good response, though. “I agreed to work with him, but I haven’t forgiven him for what he did.”

                “Has he apologised?”

                Sam laughed humourlesly. “What do you think?”

                “Then it’s a good thing you haven’t forgiven him. He needs to know that what he did was wrong first.”

                Sam mumbled something, too softly to be heard over the phone.

                “What was that?”

                “Nothing.”

                Cas decided to let it slide. For now. “Have you read your note yet?”

                “No, I haven’t. I’ll do that after we hang up.”

                “It’s probably best you don’t. I don’t think it’s very appropriate for the situation. I’ll write a new one.”

                “I won’t be back until really late.”

                “That’s fine.”

                “I mean, don’t wait up for me.”

                “I won’t. But please at least come to bed. I miss you.” He did, truthfully, but he was also worried about Dean returning. Even if they were only supposed to be hunting partners, Dean’s presence alone would cause tension. That was unavoidable.

                “I miss you too. I’ll see you in the morning.”

                Sam didn’t wait for a response. He hung up, and Cas was filled with an inexplicable feeling of dread.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam did nothing but work. When he got back to the bunker, he fell asleep immediately, and as soon as he woke up, he was in the library with a cup of coffee — black.

He set up with his laptop and some books older than he was and didn’t move from that spot all day.

Cas would know. He watched Sam the entire time. Patience was something he had an eternity of practise in, as was stealth. He kept himself hidden, even though there was really no need to. Sam wouldn’t have noticed him anyway.

Castiel waited for an opening, for something in Sam to give. It took hours, but eventually, Sam’s stomach growled. He pressed his hand to his stomach as if to smother it.

"You should eat," Castiel suggested, stepping forward. "I’ll make you something."

"I’m fine," Sam replied, but there was no real conviction behind it. After a moment, he sighed and stood. "I’ll make something small. Will you eat with me?"

Castiel nodded slowly, watching Sam until he was out of eyesight. He was concerned, of course he was. Those were the first words Sam had spoken to him all day.

He sat down at Sam’s laptop. He was working on tracking down Gadreel, which was exactly what Cas expected but not what he was concerned with.

He wasn’t exactly accustomed to working with such technologies, but he was learning. It wasn’t like he needed expertise for what he was doing.

Afterwards, Castiel met Sam in the kitchen. He was throwing something together — it didn’t look very large or filling — and Cas managed to convince him to add a little to it before they sat across each other at the table, Sam with a plate and Cas with nothing, fingers linked across the distance. That, at least, hadn’t changed.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam woke up to the sound of voices. He hadn’t even realised he fell asleep. He must have just closed his eyes for a moment and dozed off.

He was in bed — that must have been Cas’s doing — and the door was ajar. He could hear voices … no, only one voice. Dean’s. It sounded like he was arguing, but Sam couldn’t hear who with. Dean may have been a little maniacal as of late, but Sam doubted he had descended to arguing with himself.

He slid out of bed and pressed close to the door, but he still couldn’t hear much. The words were distorted; they were too far away. He’d have to get closer.

The door didn’t squeak when he opened it further, and he was silent as he slipped down the hall on socked feet. The closer he got, the more words he could make out. They were arguing in the library, door mostly closed, but it wasn’t until Sam was just outside the door that he could hear the other voice.

It was Cas. Sam didn’t know why he was surprised besides the fact that Cas wasn’t very confrontational. With his ear pressed to the door, Sam could hear what they were saying.

" — one of us has to look out for him!" That was Dean, predictably.

Cas was almost whispering. “ _You? You think what you’re doing is helpful?_ ”

"He’s alive ain’t he?"

” _Alive, yes, but he’s not well. But you wouldn’t know that. You’ve been hell knows where since Sam cast out Gadreel. Which, by the way, he wouldn’t have had to do if you hadn’t shove an angel down your brother’s throat to begin with._ ”

"He said he wanted to live. Don’t make this out like I forced it on him — "

” _You did force it on him!_ _Consent isn’t valid if it’s not informed, Dean.”_

"Like you didn’t have a part in this too. You vouched for him, Cas!"

” _And don’t you dare think that I don’t regret that every damn day! I’m trying to make it up to him, at least. I’m trying to fix what we broke. What the hell are you doing?”_

Sam heard scuffling, a thud, a grunt, something that sounded like books falling.

And then, a punch, a sound Sam knew all too well and that turned his blood to ice.

"Don’t you _dare_ act like I don’t care about my brother. He’s all I have left.”

” _You’re so predictable, Dean,_ " Cas said almost too quietly to hear. " _Turn to violence because your words fail you. Beat me up because I’m too weak to smite back. But let me tell you — you lay a finger on your brother, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”_

"If you could take me, you’d be fighting back."

” _You said_ _that one of us has to look out for Sam. If it’s not going to be you, it might as well be me. I don’t care if it takes all the Grace I have left. If you hurt your brother again, I will end you._ ”

Sam didn’t hear the rest. He didn’t want to. He had no idea Cas blamed himself for what Dean did, and he could have lived without hearing Dean try to shift the blame, as if they had equal parts in this.

He could have lived his entire life without hearing that fight.

It was wrong, and Sam was torn between disgust and fury. What he ended up feeling was a little too close to guilt.

He went back to their room. There was a sticky note on the bedside table, but he ignored it for now, searching frantically — but silently — for something to write on.

He found a receipt. It would have to do. He scribbled on it quickly and placed it on Cas’s pillow, hoping he would come back to bed after he was done fighting with Dean, before leaving himself. He just needed to take a walk, get some fresh air. Clear his head a little. He had to prioritise.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam got back at almost five in the morning. Castiel was awake, waiting for him. The note Sam had left concerned him, and he didn’t like to have Sam out of his sight at the best of times. There was a shadow of a bruise on his face where Dean had hit him that signified that this was far from the best of times.

As soon as Sam walked through the door, Cas was on him, checking for injuries. He found none, but Sam looked tired.

"You should come to bed," Cas suggested, but they both knew Cas would drag him to their bedroom by force if need be.

"We need to talk," Sam said, his voice soft as if afraid of being overheard.

"And then bed," Cas asserted. Sam nodded slowly, begrudingly.

They sat at the kitchen table, and wordlessly, Cas placed a mug of tea in front of Sam. Tea, not coffee, and Sam didn’t argue it.

"I need to sort through my priorities," Sam said softly, without further preamble. "I mean, really sit down and rethink everything. And I want to start with Gadreel."

Castiel was completely on board with what Sam was saying, but his eyebrows knit together at the mention of Gadreel. “Why start there?”

"It seems important. I … I wanted to start with Dean, but until he apologises, or at least understands why I’m mad at him, I really don’t want to have to deal with it."

Sam seemed to consider his words for a moment before reaching across the table to cover Cas’s hand with his own. “I don’t blame you, by the way,” he continued softly. “I — I heard you and Dean arguing. You couldn’t have known that Gadreel wasn’t who he said he was, and you couldn’t have known what they’d do. It’s not your fault.”

Cas moved his hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing gently. He didn’t say a word. It was kind of Sam to try to lay his guilt to rest, but it ultimately changed nothing. Cas still blamed himself.

Maybe Sam sensed that because he changed the topic. “I want you to tell me about Gadreel. Anything you know about him.”

"Nothing I say will excuse what he did, Sam."

"I know. But I still want to know."

Cas nodded. “In the morning,” he promised. He’d tell Sam everything he knew, but a small, bitter part of him hoped it wouldn’t lead to Sam’s forgiveness.


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel did tell Sam everything he knew about Gadreel. Everything. He didn’t omit a single detail, and he tried to keep his opinions out of it. As much as Cas hoped Sam wouldn’t find it in himself to forgive Gadreel, he realised that it was not his decision to make. Lack of information was what got them all into this mess to begin with, and Castiel refused to perpetuate the pattern.

Sam didn’t interrupt once, and when Cas had finished, he was silent. Cas didn’t ask him what he was thinking, didn’t say a word.

Today Sam was quiet. He’d barely spoken a word to Cas, and it was obvious he was thinking hard about something. Cas caught him chewing on his nails, something Sam rarely ever did, but it was a telltale sign of anxiety.

"I don’t want to forgive him either," Sam finally admitted softly. "But I do. What he did was wrong, but I understand why he did it. He was just trying to help , y’know? Trying to make up for his mistakes now that he has a chance. I mean … I’ve been there. I’ve been _exactly_ there. I get it.”

Castiel nodded but didn’t say anything. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, yet it wasn’t exactly surprising. Sam’s capacity to forgive was seemingly boundless.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere:  “I think we should renew our vows.”

Castiel blinked. He wasn’t against the idea, but he did wonder where it came from. “Okay. May I ask why you want to?”

Sam took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for rejection. “I’m prioritizing, right? Number one, top of the list, is family, and that used to mean Dean. But — but with everything going on, I think it means you more. Dean’s still important to me, but things are messy there.” Sam’s glance to the dark bruise on Castiel’s cheek spoke volumes. “You and me? That’s more important right now. And, I mean, Valentine’s Day is coming up, and I’d much rather spend it in a chapel than on a hunt.”

Castiel sighed, taking Sam’s hands in his own as he mulled it over. They needed to do a lot of things — fix Heaven, get Cas’s Grace back, set Dean right. But … there was really no harm in taking some time for something like this.

"Okay," he agreed finally. "We’ll keep working on what we’re working on. And in the mean time, we’ll look into renewing our vows."

Sam’s smile was blinding, and even as it was heartwarming to see, it was saddening knowing how long it had been since Castiel last saw Sam smile like that.

"Do you, uh, have a note for me today?"

Cas smiled to himself and kissed Sam — slow and gentle, like he’d been wanting to for a while. “I love you.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sam wasn’t lying when he said he was prioritizing. He was taking it very seriously, even going so far as to take notes — in Latin, to keep others from reading it. Cas understood it, of course, but he respected Sam’s privacy.

Sam shared bits, sometimes. Like when he told Cas he forgave Gadreel. His thoughts seemed to be random, disconnected, even though Castiel knew there had to be a method to them.

Meanwhile, Castiel kept looking for Gadreel and Metatron, because forgiveness or not, they needed to be found and stopped, and Cas needed his Grace back. He learned the alt-tab trick, though, which was convenient. When Dean was around, he worked on hunting down Gadreel; when Sam was around, he worked on finding a chapel in which to renew their vows, like Sam had asked. Castiel learned to multitask. He couldn’t decide if that made him more or less human.

He had shoved his own issues to the side for the time being, but it was all catching up to him now. The bruise on his face was healing nicely, evidenced by the ugly yellow it was turning, but it was just another sign of his stolen Grace, the fact that he couldn’t spare any to heal himself, not for something as minor as this. It took more of an emotional toll than a physical one, but he reassured himself that, if his Grace burned out for good, he had the rest of his mortal life to spend with Sam.

That, he thought, was the next best thing he could ask for.


	11. Chapter 11

They collapsed into bed together — actually together, at the same time for once — far to early to be considered reasonable. But Cas was just so damn tired and Sam was loath to let him spend much time alone. He was serious when he said their relationship meant more to him than anything at the moment.

"Should we write our vows together?" Sam asked, even as he snuggled closer the way he liked to before bed. He’d been pestering Cas with questions ever since he revealed that he’d found a suitable chapel and a willing priest.

"Whatever you want, Sam," Castiel answered sleepily.

"This is about us, both of us," Sam insisted. "We should decide these things together."

"I agree. But I’m tired, Sam. Can we talk about this in the morning?"

Sam leaned over Castiel, his expression betraying his concern. “Are you alright?”

"I’m fine."

"Seriously? I … I’m worried about you."

"Don’t be," Cas sighed, reaching for Sam’s hand with his own. "I’ll be okay."

"But you’re not now," Sam finished softly. It wasn’t a question. Even mostly human, Castiel was a fast healer, so there wasn’t much evidence of his fight with Dean left. Sam brushed his fingers over his cheek anyway, as if it were still there.

"Maybe we should wait. Until we can get your Grace back. Or until Dean and I aren’t fighting anymore."

A familiar weight settled on Cas’s chest. He wanted to give Sam everything he wanted and more, because Lord knows Sam deserved the world. But their lives got in the way too often, and it seemed like this time would be no different.

"What do you _want_ to do, Sam?”

Sam considered it in silence for a moment, which was just as well, because Castiel probably wouldn’t have accepted an immediate answer.

"When and if we renew our vows, I want it to be good. It should be just about us, when we’re not worried about anything else. Or at least when we can forget about it for a while. Like … " Sam’s voice trailed off, but Cas squeezing his hand apparently gave him the courage to continue. "Like the wedding we didn’t get."

Castiel swallowed past the lump in his throat in order to speak. He couldn’t describe with words how much he wanted that too. “Okay,” he started softly. “Okay. Tell me about it.”

"What?"

"Tell me about your dream wedding."

"Well, Dean’s there, of course. Best man, if he wanted to be."

"Of course. Go on."

"And … and I don’t know how we’d handle the whole walking down the aisle thing, but I’d like it if we walked to the altar at the same time."

"Down the centre aisle, maybe holding hands?" Cas wouldn’t admit it, but he was dozing as Sam spoke.

"No, like, separate sides. Maybe while Canon is playing?"

Sam kept talking, and Castiel shamefully let the sound of his voice lull him to sleep. Sam, however, didn’t mind, and kept talking even as Cas slept, breaking only to kiss him goodnight.


	12. Chapter 12

Sam woke up with a dead arm and Castiel snoring softly, nuzzling his chest. It invoked a rather confusing cocktail of emotions in Sam, but he didn’t move, just watched. He thought back to the first sticky note, the one that said Cas loved when Sam watched him wake up.

Sam liked to watch Cas wake up too, but he did miss the times when Castiel didn’t need to sleep, when he would lay in bed with Sam at night just because he wanted to, and even if he had to leave, he’d usually be back by the time Sam woke up.

He realised he expected Cas to always be there, to be as strong and unfazed as he once was, but now, that was impossible. For all intents and purposes, Castiel had Fallen. He was human and had limits. Maybe Sam had been asking too much of him, pushing him too far.

Sam slid out of bed as silently as he could, trying not to disturb Castiel. It was difficult with one arm completely and totally useless, but Sam was determined.

Once out of bed, he took a moment to just look at Cas, steeling himself for what he was about to do.

He had to find Dean.

* * *

Castiel found Sam sitting by himself in the kitchen. It was almost two in the afternoon, and Cas hadn’t seen Sam all day. To say he was concerned would have been an understatement, but his concern was needless. Sam looked forlorn, but he was okay.

Castiel sat across the table. He could smell what was in the mug held between Sam’s hands — coffee and liquor. It was far too late for one and far too early for the other.

"Are you alright?" Cas tried.

Sam glanced up at him for just a second before staring into his mug once again. “I tried to talk to Dean,” he explained softly. “It, uh, didn’t go well.”

Cas didn’t ask what happened, trusting Sam to reveal that information himself, if he wanted to. Sure enough, after only a few beats of silence, Sam continued:  ”He, um. He doesn’t get that what he did was wrong. He said he’d — he’d do it again, if he had the chance.”

"Oh, Sam."

"And he’s mad at me now. Because I said I wouldn’t, and he took that the wrong way."

"I’m sorry."

“‘S not your fault. I found your note, by the way. It’s cute. D’you mean it?”

Castiel swallowed thickly, asking, “What do you mean?” even though he had a fairly good idea.

"Do you actually mean everything you say in your notes?"

"Yes," he answered with conviction.

"All of them? Even the old ones?"

"Yes. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true."

Sam nodded slowly. “Y’know, when I finally got to mourn my dad after he died, it hurt. But, in a good way. Like when you pour alcohol on a wound. It hurts, but it also kinda feels good, because you’re healing.”

"I’m aware of the feeling." He really wasn’t, though. The only thing he had to compare it to was when Sam jumped into the Cage. But even then, losing Sam, mourning him, was never cathartic, because he couldn’t even assure himself that Sam was in a better place. That, ultimately, had been his breaking point.

"This — these notes are … kinda like that. They hurt."

"They’re not supposed to hurt, Sam. Would you like me to stop leaving them?"

"No! It’s just that … everything is shit right now, but I feel better about myself than I ever have. It’s like — "

"A fever," Castiel interrupted. "It has to get worse before it gets better. Right?"

Sam nodded again, an almost imperceptible smile on his face. “Right. A  few years ago, I wouldn’t have called Dean out on what he did. I think, maybe, things are shit _because_  they’re getting better.”

Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping further, and raised the mug to his lips. Cas stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “I think you’ve had enough.” 

"Yeah, prob’ly," Sam agreed forlornly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of rape.
> 
> It's a rape analogy, no one is actually assaulted in this chapter.

"I’ve made a decision," Sam said when he saw Castiel lingering in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Good morning to you too," Cas grumbled, no real heat behind his words as he stood in his toes for a good morning kiss.

"I don’t want to renew our vows unless Dean is there," Sam continued, ignoring Cas’s little jab. "I was serious when I said I wanted it to be like the wedding we didn’t have. Is that okay?"

"Whatever you want, Sam," Castiel promised sincerely.

"What do _you_ want?”

"I want you to be happy," he answered immediately. "Even if that means waiting a year or ten."

Sam bumped his hip against Cas’s — or at least tried to, his aim was a little high — and smiled at him. His way of saying “thank you” Cas supposed. “Hopefully, you won’t have to wait ten years. I … I want to talk to Dean again, but I want you to be there too. If you want to.”

"I’d love to," Castiel answered, even though a knot was growing in his stomach even as he spoke. Sam seemed to understand, as his responding smile was much more sympathetic than the last.

"Good. But for now, breakfast. I’m making omelets. Want one?"

Cas opened his mouth to answer, but immediately found it covered with Sam’s. Cas let out a little noise of surprise in the same instant that Sam pulled away with a smirk.

"Good morning, by the way," he said, laughing when Castiel just stood there, frozen in surprise.

:::

Sam did indeed sit down with Dean again, this time with Cas by his side. Well, more like at a respectable distance, so he provided moral support but wasn’t an active participant in the conversation.

Overall, Sam thought he did well. He didn’t raise his voice, explained himself clearly, everything that Dean didn’t do. The conversation was going to shit, but Sam had expected as much.

The moment Dean stood from his chair to emphasize his point was the moment Cas stepped in.

"Would you have sex with a woman if she didn’t want it?" he interjected without a beat of hesitation.

Sam stared at Cas with wide eyes, and Dean blinked at him a couple of times before the question fully got through to him. “What the fuck, Cas?” he snapped. “No, I wouldn’t.”

"And if the woman agreed to a certain set of activities, would you make her participate in something she hadn’t agreed to and wasn’t familiar with?"

"No. Cas, what the hell does this — ?"

"And if that woman were  hurt by your actions, you would do your best to correct them, right? You would stay and help her?"

"Damn right I would, but what — ?"

"What makes Sam any different?"

"What the hell are you trying to say? I never _once_ — “

"You shoved an angel in me, Dean," Sam stepped in.

"He didn’t want it," Cas continued. "And he didn’t know what you were suggesting when you asked him to try to live."

"I lost time, Dean. I will never get those bits of my life back."

"And when he was hurt, you left. You didn’t stay to help, and you’ve done nothing but hurt him since."

"I saved his life!" Dean shouted. "I saved your life!"

"My time has to come eventually," Sam argued, exasperated. "We’ve cheated death too many times. I was _ready_ to die, okay?”

"But I wasn’t!" Dean looked desperate, let the anger fall away for once. "I wasn’t ready for you to die."

Sam clenched his jaw and turned away from both of them. He didn’t respond.

"So you admit," Cas started softly, conscious of Sam’s reaction, "You saved Sam’s life for you? You didn’t do it for him?"

Dean sighed, and he seemed to deflate, running a hand down his face. “Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m — no, I’m not sorry I did it, but I’m sorry I hurt you, Sam.”

Sam took a deep breath and stood, spine straight and shoulders squared, as he met Dean’s eyes. “I … goddammit, I don’t want to forgive you. But I do.”

"Sammy — "

"That was a shitty apology, and you still have a lot of making up to do. But it’s a start."

Dean stepped forward, arms raising as if looking for a hug, but seeming to think better of it. Cas thought Sam would take him up on it anyway, but Sam just squeezed Dean’s shoulder and offered a tight smile.

:::

"I didn’t overstep my boundaries, did I?"

Sam and Cas sat together in the library, mostly in silence until now.

“No,” Sam answered softly. “You’re fine. I think you helped get through to him, actually.”

“Do you think he’ll actually try to do better?”

Sam sighed and leaned against Cas, accepting the arm around his shoulders with a hum. “I hope so.”


	14. Chapter 14

When Sam woke up on Valentine’s Day, Castiel was already awake, staring at him with a sort of fondness that made Sam’s chest tight. He thought, again, to the first note Castiel left him this year, and how true it was for both of them. Sam couldn’t deny that he felt so incredibly loved when he woke up to Cas watching him sleep.

Cas wasn’t looking at Sam’s eyes, though, and didn’t seem to realise that he was awake. So without a word, he captured Castiel’s lips, gentle but yearning, feeling Cas smile.

“Morning breath,” Sam complained playfully.

“You were the one who kissed me.”

Sam smiled and scooted forward, resting their heads together so that their noses bumped almost painfully. Sam didn’t mind, and Cas didn’t seem to either, taking advantage of their close proximity to kiss Sam again.

They didn’t have mornings like this often, especially lately, but dammit, Sam was going to take advantage of it. If he hadn’t changed his mind, they’d be holding hands at an altar, taking the day for themselves to just celebrate what they have, and what they will continue to have. There was no reason they couldn’t do the same thing still, sans altar.

Starting now.

“Hey, Cas?”

Castiel hummed.

“So this whole time, you’ve been telling me how much you love me and that I matter and all that.”

“Right. Has it helped?”

“I think so, yeah. But that’s not what I’m getting at.” With one more kiss, Sam pulled back to look at Cas properly. This was important, and he wanted Castiel to know that. “I need you to know that you matter too.”

“Sam – “

“No, c’mon, let me say this.”

Cas shut up accordingly, looking very much like he wanted to interrupt. Sam thanked him silently with a touch on his wrist.

“I think you know you matter,” he continued. “But I don’t think you know _why_ you matter. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you always assume the worst of yourself.”

“That’s not quite right,” Castiel spoke up. “I don’t deserve to be the center of anyone’s attention, and I don’t want to be. That’s why I say I’m not a leader, not a saviour, or not whatever else people try to call me.”

“You _are_ , though. If I said ‘I’m not a hero,’ you’d spend at least a solid week trying to convince me that I am. And that’s cool. I mean, I like it. But I want you to know that I’d do the same for you. And don’t try to say that you’ve screwed up. That doesn’t erase the good you’ve done too.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows, and Sam rolled his eyes. Yeah, he saw the hypocrisy of what he just said. It didn’t make it any less true.

Silence fell, only slightly more tense than usual, and Castiel seemed to be considering Sam’s words.

“I love your hands,” he said finally. Sam cocked his head to the side in confusion, not following his angel’s train of thought.

Castiel took one of Sam’s hands in both of his own, brushing his fingers over Sam’s palm and wrist, bending and straightening his fingers, kissing the knuckles. “You build things with these hands. You save lives.”

“I kill things.”

“You kill things,” Cas agreed. “But you also love things.”

“I love _you_.”

Cas smiled warmly. “I know.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter specifically written for the SPN OTP Fic-a-Month Challenge. February: Romance.

Sam took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, smoothed his hands over a crease in his jacket. He looked nice, hair combed back into a tight ponytail, wearing the yellow-green tie that Castiel loved. He wished they could have rented tuxes, but as it was, this was very last-minute.

            He was actually very impressed with how much they were able to put together in such a short amount of time. Castiel obviously had the intentions of making his dream wedding as much of a reality as possible when he asked.

            Sam had no idea why he was so nervous. He was already married to Cas. They were just renewing their vows, but his hands were shaking, his heart pounding against his chest. He might be married, but he’d never had a wedding, and no matter how he tried to reason with himself that it was no big deal, it kind of was.

            The door behind Sam opened, and he spun around, half expecting to see Castiel, even though they agreed that they wouldn’t see each other until they got ready to walk down the aisle – together, the way Cas had wanted. It wasn’t Castiel, of course. It was Dean, looking dapper himself and, surprisingly, happy about it. Dean always did tease Sam about how he and Cas weren’t really married – “ _Me and Charlie watching you put on jewelry doesn’t really count_ ” – but he looked so damn proud when they told him they were renewing vows, giving themselves the wedding they didn’t have a chance for.

            Dean walked across the room, holding out an index card to Sam. “You left it in the car,” he teased, and Sam sighed in relief. He thought he had lost it, and then he’d be screwed. Unlike his husband, he didn’t have an angelic memory. “Guaranteed to make everyone vomit rainbows.”

            “You read it?” Sam frowned.

            “I heard you two talking about it. Might have caught the last line you agreed on. Do you want me to hold onto this?”

            Sam took the card and slipped it into his breast pocket, looking over himself one more time in the mirror.

            “Nervous, love bird?”

            “Yeah,” Sam answered honestly.

            “Don’t be.” Dean clapped him on the shoulder and led him out the room. “You’ve already got Cas. Now you just gotta, I don’t know, tell him you love him or whatever.”

            Sam rolled his eyes, but his palms were sweating.

            They went down the hallway in silence, but before they turned the corner into the chapel, Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulders and turned him around, leading him backwards the rest of the way down the hall.

            “What -- ?” Sam started, stopping himself when his back bumped something – someone, if the snicker behind him was anything to go by.

            “Sam?”

            Sam swallowed thickly. “Hey, Cas.”

            “Hello, Sam. Long time, no see.”

            Sam snorted a laugh.

            “Okay, nerds,” Charlie started – Sam couldn’t see her, so he must have been by Cas. “Turn around when you’re ready. C’mon, Dean, let’s bounce.”

            All Sam saw of Charlie was a shock of red hair as she dragged Dean away. Then he and Castiel were alone, and Sam was more nervous than ever. They hadn’t planned this part. How was he supposed to know when to turn around? What could he expect to see?

            Castiel tugged on Sam’s ponytail lightly. Sam scoffed, but he still turned around, his mouth dropping as his eyes swept over his husband.

            Castiel was gorgeous. Well, he was always gorgeous, but _now_? Castiel was wearing a dark brown suit and a light blue tie, and if that didn’t bring out his eyes well enough, the thinnest line of black outlined his waterline. He had shaved and combed his hair back, and as much as Sam loved when Cas looked disheveled, this was a whole different kind of beauty that Sam hadn’t seen in a long time.

            “You look great, Sam,” Castiel smiled, and when Sam looked, he saw his eyes shining.

            Sam opened his mouth to reply, but he had no words, nothing he could say to encompass how he felt at that moment.

            He was spared trying to save face by the stereo system crackling and light static signaling that music was about to start playing. Sure enough, a heartbeat later, Canon was playing through the speakers.

            Sam took Castiel’s hand in his, pleased to find it just as shaky as his own. “Ready?”

            Castiel grinned wide and nodded.

_:::_

_With great joy, I pledge my love and commitment to you on our wedding day. Never in my long life had I imagined I would find love like the one we share, but I cannot describe with words how happy I am with you. I don’t want to imagine life without you. So, once again, I take you, Sam Winchester, to be my partner in life, my best friend, and my one true love. I promise, with Divine witness, to trust you, to love you unconditionally and faithfully, to honour and respect you through good times and bad, sorrow and joy, and for the rest of eternity. My hand, my heart, and my love are yours to keep from this day forward._


End file.
